Raising Hell
by Hands of Death
Summary: Peeves tortures Umbridge...even leaving Hogwarts to do it. I think Peeves needs more limelight, hm, SR?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, wouldn't be on FF if I did

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"_Give her hell from us, Peeves."_

Peeves had taken the Weasley twins' parting words to heart. Even though Umbridge had been gone for a year now, there was so much more he could do to her.

He thought carefully to himself. She was still at the Ministry.

Peeves did something he had never done before:

He left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Peeves made a list of everything he needed to torture the dumpy, toad-like, simpering sycophant of a witch and it went something like this:

-Nifflers

-Stagnant water

-Salamanders

-Toad spawn

-Frog brains

-An angry herd of centaurs

The last would be extremely difficult to obtain, but it would be done.

His walking sticks and Neville Longbottom's toad, Trevor, wouldn't hurt either.

A few water balloons also wouldn't go amiss.

This was it. He grinned evilly. Dolores Umbridge was going down.

And if he had to go to the Ministry, he would do it.

As Peeves conspicuously shot out into the night air, Filch managed to get over his rheumatism for about ten minutes as he did a victory dance, complete with war whoops and a fantastic routine, cheerleader-worthy.

A/N: Just an intro, so it's short. Co-author, you know where to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I might be British but all I have to my name are a couple of concert tickets… sorry!

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After Peeves flew out into the night sky he realized he has no idea where the MOM was… problem?

Not for Peeves! He simply returned to Hogwarts and Filch was more than happy to do anything that would get rid of the irritating poltergeist.

As he flew Peeves was amused by various birds and befriended a few visiting Canadian Geese so that he could add them to his list of tricks and pranks for Umbridge.

His first trick was going to involve the rampaging centaurs as they had demanded that if they helped him it would only have to be for a short time… now he just had to figure out how to use them…

Then he would plant the nifflers… hey wait… maybe he could use the Centaurs to plant the nifflers…

While plotting Peeves accidentally flew off track and hit a cell phone tower.

Cursing the bruise on his head he kept going and a little while later arrived at the MOM.

He tried to use the phone booth but the 'cool voice' on the other end wouldn't let a poltergeist in so Peeves floated up to the top of the phone booth and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And eventually who should enter the phone booth but Mr. Weasley.

A/N: Skyline here! This was a fun chapter to write so take it


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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Fifty miles away from the dilapidated phone booth, an old woman sat in an old-fashioned rocking chair, knitting a woolly scarf.

She heard a loud scream, shook her head and muttered, "Kids' music," disapprovingly and continued knitting. "I miss the Beach Boys. Now all we have to hear is this blasted Slipknot and something called My Chemical Romance. Why would you want to have a chemical romance? That sounds dangerous. Like a science practical gone wrong, or a mad doctor with no life."

Fifty miles away from the old woman, and inside the dilapidated phone booth, Mr. Weasley was screaming bloody murder, having been pelted with eggs by Peeves.

After realising that that the deafening screams were definitely _masculine_, Peeves got a good look at his victim.

He swore ferociously.

So did Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley looked at his attacker and scowled. "Aren't you that irritating spirit-thing that annoys the current caretaker at Hogwarts School?"

"Poltergeist, Weasel. And aren't you the crazy Muggle-obsessed father of the several red-haired children from Hogwarts School?"

"Oh, very clever, are you?" asked Mr. Weasley grimly as he wiped off the sticky residue of the eggs from his glasses. Suddenly remembering that he, in fact, was a wizard, he took out his wand, murmured, "_Evanesco!_" and the egg whites vanished.

"What are you doing here, Weas?"

"For your information, I work here."

"In this phone booth?"

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Who're you calling names, Crazy?"

Mr. Weasley chose not to respond to the irritating poltergeist and dialled 6-2-4-4-2 into the phone.

"Why can't you Apparate?"

Mr. Weasley flushed red. "Well—if you must know—my licence has been revoked for…six months."

Peeves grinned evilly. "And why would that be?"

"For Apparating in a no-Apparition area."

"Oh." Not that that had meant anything to Peeves, considering that he was a poltergeist.

"Why are _you_ here, might one ask? Don't you have better things to do…like rattling armour, sticking gum in key-holes, torturing the girl-ghost in the bathroom?"

"Myrtle's been grim lately. Poor little Spotty," Peeves answered, zooming about ostentatiously.

"With you around, I'm not surprised," muttered Mr. Weasley.

"If _you_ must know, I'm trying to spite Dolores Umbridge. Is she still here?"

"Yes, and as toad-like as ever," smiled Mr. Weasley.

"Well, you could do me a little favour…"

"And why?"

"Because I still have some eggs here."

"Fine. What?"

"Keeping mum. Not a bad idea, you know?"

"Fine."

"Thanks, Baldy."

"Weasel, Weas, _Crazy_, _BALDY!_ You know, I strongly object to all these names!"

"Sorry. Baldy. That's my personal favourite."

Unlikely as it was, it happened. Mr. Weasley kept quiet. He never liked Umbridge anyway…

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Two hours later…

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! MY RINGS! GIVE THEM BACK YOU FOUL, FURRY CREATURE! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Peeves smiled. Oh, wait until he got the Canadian geese…


End file.
